


The Bachelor Named Travis McCluney

by Tyndale



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gay Romance, M/M, Romance, Work Romance, Yaoi, YoungerxOlder Pairing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-07 09:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyndale/pseuds/Tyndale
Summary: Everyone wants him but it's hard for Travis McClueny to settle down. He wouldn't mind meeting the right person but such things are never easy. MalexMale Romance. OlderxYounger pairing.





	1. The Doggie Palace

Everyone says it's for a good cause but I have to remind myself it's a good write off for my taxes. I make over five hundred thousand dollars and charity helps me to avoid handing too much money over to Uncle Sam. Plus, having my face here at The Doggie Palace helps this small business continue to stay open. So, I figure it's a win-win for everyone.

Normally, on Wednesday, I'm cleaning out the kennels. Roxanne, a fluffy white poodle, always wants to fight me. She's like all the women in my life. The first day I met her, she was all about the licks and laying on her back to get tummy rubs from me. Then, a couple of weeks in, she growls and tries to bite me. It's enough to make me say fuck it and call it quits. But every time I think of leaving, I remind myself it's for a write-off and in addition, all this crap I do here softens my public image.

Yeah, so, that's correct. Society views me as a horrible monster. Thinking outside the box and not following the tune of others will definitely crown any person a spawn of Satan. However, I'm used to it. And maybe that's a bad thing―being used it. I suppose I should be more outspoken and demand some respect but at the end of the day, it is what it is. I'm Travis McCluney and the world can either take it or leave it.

And right now, Roxanne is going to have to deal with me, this muzzle, and a leash, and be happy about it.

"Alright, you spoiled, little brat. Come here," I coax.

Roxanne bears her sharp teeth. I'm instantly reminded of the movie Cujo. I'm really not trying to be eaten alive by a dog. I take a step back, dropping her leash and the muzzle to the floor. Today, she's absolutely pissed at me. I mean, she's always mad but at the moment, I think this little mutt wants to see my body sprawled on the floor.

"Ok. Easy girl," I start to close her cage, "I'll come back later. No problem. By all means, enjoy your doggie bedroom."

She barks loudly, releasing all her anger and frustration. I watch for a moment, amazed how upset she's gotten. I won't take it personally. Besides, she's just a dog but I wish she could tell me what's wrong. Then, I'd know how to fix this shit.

Yeah, she really is just like all the women in my life.

"Mr. McCluney?" Someone calls for me.

I turn around and notice Sarah. She's probably about eighteen. This is possibly her first job. I know I'm assuming but I won't dare ask her. At my age, it's easy to pick up on certain things. For instance, when she looks at me, I'm not seen as a mid-age man in his thirties. I don't get that "gross, an old-man" attitude from her.

What she gives me is soft stares and even softer laughs. Because apparently, everything I say sounds funny to her. She also likes to touch me, which is flattering but the hand on my shoulder and bumping into me sometimes can become quite annoying.

Let's be real. I'm twice her age and I doubt she's ever seen a fucking penis. The inexperience would drive me insane and I'm confident a secret fuck in my car wouldn't satisfy her. Chances are, she'd ball and chain me in a heartbeat. So, that's why I don't ask her questions. It would lead me down a road, I wouldn't want to travel.

"Is Roxanne giving you a hard time again," she stands pretty close. "Don't worry, Mr. McCluney. I'll clean out her area. She likes me a little more."

"Okay," I keep things simple. "Good luck with that."

"I would love your help. If you don't mind," Sarah bends down to pick up the muzzle and leash. I catch sight of what she wants to flash at me. Damn, I wish I hadn't looked. She notices my stare and smiles while still bent over.

"Mr. McCluney, do you like what you see?" her voice perks up. She's excited I'm looking.

I get it. Sarah thinks I'm hot. I know she's aware of my social status and how much I earn. This is fun for her and I'm pretty sure she has daddy issues. Still, her girly crush on me isn't worth my time. If I'm going to slam my cock into someone, the person has to be worth my time.

"Look," I confront her, "Stop the act. I'm thirty-five years old and from the look of you, I bet you're fresh out of high school. You and I have nothing in common other than we work here at this dog place.

I mean, I could fuck you, if that's what you want but that's not what you want. You want me to be your boyfriend or some shit. I bet you even thought of introducing me to your friends and family. I'm telling you, I'm not that type of guy. So, if you're alright with it, could you stop teasing the hell out of me and just get someone your own age."

Suddenly, the young girl starts to cry. Damn, I must have laid it on her too strong. Her eyes stare as if I've told her the worst news in the world. My intentions weren't to hurt her. I never like hurting the ladies but I always manage to fuck things up somehow. Either I say the wrong thing or I do the wrong thing. Most of the time, I fuck up so bad, women have been known never to forgive me. I'm pretty damn sure Sarah won't accept my apology, even if I offered her one. Still, I'm going to try anyways.

"Uh, I'm sorry," I rub the back of my neck. I make an attempt to appease her. "Hey, but no hard feelings. If you want, I can still fuck you. I was only-"

She turns around, breaking out into a run, in order to get away from me. I watch her rush from the dog's sleep area and back into the massive, beige building. After a while, Roxanne starts barking again. I turn to look at her. She's a vicious little thing.

"Yeah," I pick up the muzzle and leash from the floor, "I know. You hate me. Guess who joined your fucking club? Hooray, you have one new member."

I sulk into the building, where I meet Sahil. He's the man who is in charge of all the volunteer hours and charities donations. I'm anticipating a long, reprimanding speech for what I did to Sarah but he shakes my hand like usual.

"Mr. McCluney, thank you so much for coming. We have a 2% increase in sales and I am very proud of it. It's not much but I'm proud."

I lower my hand to my side. " Glad I could help in some way." I guess Sarah's going to keep what happened between me and her a secret. I know she understands it's for the better. Plus, she could lose her job if she told Sahil the whole story.

"You know, Mr. McCluney, you are inspiring people. I hope you know."

We walk to the front of the building. Normally, Sahil speaks loudly but all the bustle of the dogs and people makes it hard to hear him today. I lean closer. He smiles.

"Busy. Busy. Loud. Loud," he jokes. "It's good business today!"

Finally, when we are outside. I'm able to hear him better.

"Some new volunteers have arrived. They are coming next week and we may not be able to give you as much hours, but we will try."

"What do you mean," I hate to hear this.

"They're young kids. They want to help and I say, the more the merrier. It's good for business."

I'll be honest, Sahil likes money. Hell, he loves it. If he could breathe and consume it internally, I think he'd make it a part of himself. And by no means am I saying I don't like money. I love the shit, too. And that's why this is bothering me. I can't have some college or high school punks taking my spotlight and robbing me of my opportunity to use this place as a tax write-off.

I know it sounds a bit heartless but I've made a name for myself here. I've learned their routine and I suck at starting things over. It's not that I couldn't go somewhere else, it's just, why the hell should I have to.

Damn it, this sucks!

"But I'll still have some hours, correct," I bet I sound desperate.

"Yes. Of course, Mr. McClueny. We want you to stay. We are most happy with you. Please, let me walk you to your car."

Salhil just wants to see what I'm driving today. I know he won't admit it, but I've noticed the way he looks at my cars. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd ask me one day for a ride.

"Oh! You're driving the hummer today. Very nice, Mr. McClueny!"

"Thanks,"I pat his shoulder. "I'll see you next week, right?"

"Yes, sir. And you'll be able to meet the new volunteers. It will be good-"

I close the hummer's door before Sahil can finish. "Yeah, I know. It'll be good for business." I crank the engine on. "Let's hope so."


	2. Detra Lofton

Just after leaving Sahil and The Doggie Palace, my phone started to ring. Now, normally, on Wednesday, I drive straight home and call it a day. However, tonight is the exception. Because tonight I'm with a woman who I'd consider is totally different.

In fact, when you run in the circles I run in and you mingle with the people I mingle with, it's hard not to want something different. Detra Lofton is just the type of woman I like. She's pretty in the face, appearing almost innocent and naive, but from the way she's dressed, I know she's itching for something more than a dinner. I assume this because a woman who's only interested in a nice chat and food doesn't look like Detra.

For one, the dress is too tight. It hugs her voluptuous curves like an itty-bitty glove. Secondly, the collar is way too low. She's showing her busty cleavage like it's her pride and glory. In other words, this woman knows she has a nice rack and showcasing it makes it easier for her to get what she wants from me.

And lastly, the make-up says a lot, also. Detra looks ready for a lingerie commercial. She's bright-eyed, with long lashes, and glossy, plump red lips. If I didn't think she'd slap me, I would have leaned across the table and kissed her by now.

"Thanks for agreeing to see me tonight," her smile lights up the dim restaurant. "Shaun told me you might be busy on Wednesday. Something about you volunteering."

Shaun is one of my old pals. We've been knowing each other since college. We were actually pursuing the same degree back in 2007. Unfortunately, he dropped out the first semester and I went on to graduate with a bachelor's degree in Marine Biology. A few years later, I earned my Master's degree from the same university.

He swore to me a while ago, he'd go back and finish what he started but after ten years, I think Shaun isn't concerned with it anymore. He's settled on running a nightclub and I'm fine with it. What I'm not fine with is Shaun telling too much of my business. The guy talks so much about me, he's become worse than the news outlets. Sometimes, I wouldn't mind speaking to a date who doesn't know every little detail of my life. At least this would give me a chance to share the things about myself I feel like sharing.

I decide not to be evasive. Apparently, women have a stronger sense for detecting dead-beat liars. "Yes, I volunteer at The Doggie Palace on Wednesday. It's a great way to give back to the community."

I sprinkled the last part in there, hoping for a smile. I don't get one. She's straight lip right now. Damn, I hope I didn't say the wrong thing. I wouldn't be surprised if I did.

"It's funny you talk about the good of the community," She dabs a napkin against her lips. Detra's ready for a verbal showdown. "I read somewhere your need for perfection risked the life of someone on your biology team when you ordered them to secure a whale washed up on shore. The man, who almost lost his life, lives in the community."

Elijah Brooks is the person she's referring to who almost lost his life. Damn, the media really knows how to make me out to be the bad guy.

Honestly, it's widely known whales will sometimes find their way on the shoreline. And of course, wildlife activists feel strongly about releasing whales back into the sea. I get it! I fully understand their concern but recently, a large number of whales have been washing up on shore with abnormal lacerations and discolorations on their skin. My partnerships along the shoreline in Costa Rica, New Zealand, and Maine have been recording the same information and some whales, after being released, appear back on the shoreline but upon the second time, they're deceased.

So, being the curious guy I am, I decided to take the whale to one of my secure facilities and in the process Elijah does a jackass move, and everyone blames his screw-up on me. I'm used to the press dragging me through the mud but I'm pretty tired of getting the third degree from people who don't know the whole story.

Usually, in a situation like this, I change the subject but today, because I like this woman, I'm going to entertain the nonsense she's spewing. Hopefully, if I handle this the right way, I'll get to take her out again and maybe screw her later.

"Yeah, I'll admit, I'm known to push my team hard. Anyway, Elijah isn't used to handling live specimens. He's more of a laboratory scientist. That day, he offered to join the team on a field expedition. It was suppose to be a visual experience for him. Silly guy wanted to get hands-on and made some mistakes."

I watch her face soften. The straight-lipped expression is slowly coming undone.

"I take full responsibility for it. I'm not hiding behind the mistake he made," I take a sip of wine. Her eyes are staring like she's really hanging on my every word.

"What bothers me is the nerve of the media to twist the story. The whale is obviously sick and I wouldn't feel comfortable releasing it back into the ocean. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to stand aside and follow everyone else's opinion just so I won't have to face the condemnation of the activists and the media. That's not who I am, Detra."

We stare at each other. Her eyes minus well have sparkles in them. I think I might have made her slightly turned-on. Very slowly, her lips curl into a gentle grin.

"You're more charming in person," her gaze falls to the plate of grilled salmon and buttered squash. I watch as she forks the fish. She's obviously not interested in the dinner. I don't believe she was ever interested in it.

"I'm even more charming in private," I reach across the table to place my hand over hers.

She suddenly glances up, shocked by the contact. I know it's a bold move but I want this woman. It's been two weeks since my last relationship. Well, I wouldn't call it a relationship. Patricia Hunter dated me for awhile but only for revenge. Her husband was screwing some woman at his office and Patricia knew fooling around with me would piss her husband off. Everything ended with her leaving to return back to her husband, who claimed he'd never cheat again.

Although I liked Patricia, I knew things weren't going to last. Most of my relationships normally end with me picking up the pieces and starting over. And everyone who knows me understands I hate having to start over.

However, Detra seems promising. She looks like the type of woman I could have fun with and the type who wouldn't give me a hard time. She might be outspoken but I believe if I talk calmly and continue being open, she'll treat me fairly well.

"We could go back to my place, if you want," I rub her hand, hoping this ignites a spark of passion.

"And do what," she whispers.

"Anything you want," I like how she teases.

"Anything? Oh, really," her grin widens. I can see she's going to take the offer.

"Whatever makes you happy," I stand to my feet.

I slowly walk over and slide her chair backwards. I take Detra's hand in mine and gently lift her from the dining chair. As I suspected, her dress allows for a peep show. I catch sight of her thighs and God, I wish I could spread her.

"You should always wear this dress," I compliment. Detra laughs. I like the way she laughs.

"Wow, I thought for sure you wanted to see me out of this dress," She attempts to pull down the hem. "I guess I was wrong, huh?"

It's obvious she's a tease by nature. Sometimes women who tease can ruin things quickly. I, for one, enjoy a woman who knows how to tease correctly. And for the record, Detra knows exactly how to leave my cock and heart aching for more.

"No, you weren't wrong," We continue to hold hands. I lead her through the restaurant, trying my best to ignore how hard she has my dick. " You most definitely weren't wrong, Detra."

Once I close the front door to my home, Detra pulls me in for a kiss. Her hands try to yank off my jacket but it seems kissing while attempting to disrobe isn't easy for her. I decide to help. I tug on the sleeve of my coat just as her tongue slips into my mouth. Hot damn, she tastes just like wine and butter.

Although Detra wasn't good at removing my jacket, she's a pro when it comes to unzipping me. Within seconds, her long-nailed fingers are jerking off my cock. I breathe heavy against her wet mouth. She has to know what she's doing is driving me crazy. If she keeps this up, I might just cum in her hand. And wouldn't that be a tragedy. Detra has such a pretty fucking mouth. Besides, I've never been the type to waste a perfectly good cum shot.

"You know, this feels really good but," I slowly remove her hand, "your mouth would feel even better."

Her kisses stop. The passion she displayed earlier feels like it has become stronger. I watch as she wets her lips. Soon, Detra begins to lower herself to her knees. Warm hands travel down my body. I can already picture how amazing her lips will feel wrapped around my cock. I shut my eyes, anticipating Detra's full lips sucking me.

Just when her mouth grazes the tip, her phone rings. The sound throws us both out of the mood. God, I hate fucking interruptions! Especially when I'm trying to get my cock sucked by a pretty lady. I'm tempted to ask her to ignore it but before I can speak, she's rummaging through the purse on the floor.

"I'm sorry, I have to take this," she apologizes.

"It's fine," that's a lie but what else can I say.

Detra lifts to stand. While holding the phone, she manages to pull down her dress and straighten her hair.

"I'm in the middle of something," I hear her tell the other person on the phone. "I understand but I'm-"

She's interrupted by the caller and during her moment of silence, I catch sight of her facial expression. Detra looks disappointed. It's as if something bad has happened.

"So," I start to buckle my pants, "do you have to leave?"

She avoids my gaze, "Yes, I'm sorry. It's an emergency at my office. I work for a business firm downtown."

"It's one in the morning," I state.

"I know," her eyes still won't look at me.

Based off her reaction, I decide on a sympathetic approach. I doubt she wants the third degree from me about how preposterous it is for such a late night call.

"Yeah, well, I guess it can't be helped. I mean, what can you do, right?"

Finally, she looks up. Her smile is enough to make my heart stop. I bet I'm not the only man who's been swept away by her smile. She could stop wars with her gorgeous face.

" You're right. You can't do very much," Detra heads for the door. She's neat and proper for public viewing but behind closed doors, I can proudly say I've seen her frazzled, sex-hungry appearance and boy, is it hot.

"Can we see each other again," her voice is sultry and sweet.

"Tomorrow is fine," I answer right away. The quick response rewards my cheek with a farewell kiss.

"See you tomorrow, Mr. McCluney," Detra waves goodbye on her way to the silver sedan parked out front. I wave back. I'll be honest, I can't wait to see her again. However, something bothers me...

What downtown firm is still open this late at night?


End file.
